Downsides of Heroism
by adele4
Summary: When Bakura is freed, and fights and wins alongside his new friends inside the Monster World game, he believes this is the beginning of a new, adventure-filled life. Sadly, it’s nothing but an interlude.


_**AN**__: This is another attempt of answering the burning question "what the hell is up with Ryou?"  
Originally written for the 1character livejournal community; there's no direct connection between the sentences (one paragraph always equals one sentence), they just follow each other chronologically. (Version with the themes is on my lj.)  
Manga-based, end of series spoiler.  
Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh, etc._

* * *

Downsides of Heroism

* * *

He's seven when he first wears the ring, entranced by the soft, unexplainable jingling of the five pointers.

He's tried to keep track of his fleeing life by keeping a journal, but he finds entries he can't remember writing, and pages that have been ripped out, and somehow, it only makes things worse.

He has carefully created a void all around himself, to keep away remaining friends and family and anyone who could fall into a mysterious coma only from his closeness.

And he gives his new address to no-one but Amane, afraid his father might visit him and disappear as well.

Very soon, before he even knows why, he has learned to hide everything through polite distance.

He puts the mysterious puppets in neat rows, and when he doesn't see their expression of terror, can wistfully imagine they're sleeping and waiting.

Sometimes, when he is very silent, he can hear a distant murmur coming from his golden ring, like a vivid memory of voices long dead...

* * *

_(cardboard)_

It began with a gentle, golden glow no-one seemed to notice, just like all the games he couldn't remember playing, and he was gone.

The little wooden figurine scrambled to his feet, and the white magician brightly looked up at them from under his white and red hood.

He smiled at them, because he was free now, and would fight alongside them, and because he was a prisoner in his own fantasy world, in his own fantasy scenario, and he was not alone.

He knew every spot of the unreal world, and how dangerous it was, and if he had to, could guide them as safely as possible even through the deep forest full of monsters.

This was adventure, real fantasy-dreamed adventure and nothing else: gone was the isolation, the fear of rampant darkness and sliding magic that swirled around him without ever granting him a single wish.

He would have liked to finish the game as it had been written and designed for; he would have enjoyed a real battle, following all the rules, and the setup scenario, without cheating and real magic, even the purest, being involved; but it was a tricked game from the beginning, and the adversary was cheating, and in the end it wasn't what really mattered.

Against all evidence, even though they barely knew him, they had believed in him; and he would play until the end, just like all the others would, and this time, even if he had to disappear, he would save them.

He had spent hours – days – raising his character to its current strength in this game: he was busting with energy, and delighted to sacrifice all of it for a single powerful attack.

He smiled when the plastic dice busted into thousand pieces in the thief's hand.

He knew that he could only be revived if Yuugi – the other Yuugi – threw a double zero, but not for an instant was he afraid that he could fail him.

His eyes blinked open; confused at first, he raised his head from the table, to see the other Yuugi looking down at him with a warm smile, and he sat up, all the others still imprisoned but out of danger, and they shared a single moment of simple, real aloneness, sixty seconds at the most, but he didn't know at the time...

All that remained of the parasite had been wiped away; his body was clean, free, _his_.

It took him only one day to complete it, something better and more fitting than just a painting, a model showing all of them, united in their moment of victory.

Above all, and again, Duelist Kingdom would be Yuugi's fight, but it was out of question that they wouldn't come with him and protect him, and support him with all their strength.

But he thought of himself as well, and the questions that plagued him even since before their meeting; he would find answers and unlock the mysteries of those magical items he and Yuugi had been given.

_(cardboard)_

* * *

Of course he knows of the danger, and of course he tries to ignore the coaxing voice from the ring, but he has to help Yuugi at any cost, or their journey will end here...

There is, he learns, a difference between a generous gift of true magic with endless flights to dream worlds, and a brief vacation from the normal laws of life...

He regains control on the helicopter that takes them back to the continent, and there's a golden orb in his pocked, and a coppery taste in his mouth, and he tries no to gag.

Strengthened by horror, he tries to block out the malicious presence, from his mind, from his body; but the other casually vanishes into the deeps of his mind without even acknowledging his effort.

"You would be nothing to them," the voice whispers, as he hesitantly lays a hand on the cord as if to remove it; "but through the ring, your fate will always remain connected to theirs..."

In this strange place that is his soul room, he finds countless ancient memories, stored away and almost forgotten, that are a reflection of his own self.

He is invulnerable, as if he was enveloped in a cocoon of soft, protective matter, and strikes can only come from the inside.

Sometimes, when he watches the fight carry on from far behind his own eyes, he finds himself hating Yuugi and the others.

Kaiba shouting commands and the others' angry answers and Yuugi seeming to call him and Malik's phantom voice invading his mind and the parasite's mad laughter, and above all, the red dragon's menacing roar, as he falls on his knees, clenching a hand on his wounded arm, and has no idea where he is.

His head begins to spin; the island is about to explode, and as Yuugi and Honda pretend ignorance, he dashes through the rooms he's had no chance to memorize, running, running, running, so he doesn't have to leave without the golden pendant.

Time has ceased to make sense to him; the changes in the outside world happen briskly and don't follow any logic.

And he learns to use only exact dates in conversation, and to avoid uncertain indications like "yesterday" or "last week".

He's furious when he finally finds out what has really happened during _their_ last duel: how could Yuugi and his other have doubted, only for a moment, that he would happily die for them a second time?

He is terrified at the idea of being forced to live his real life again; but uselessly pushing against the wall the spirit has built for him, fighting for his freedom keeps him alive, saves him from depression and madness.

When the bad feeling for keeping the ring resurfaces in him, he tries to rationalize it away: one doesn't just throw away something that is made of solid gold!

He watches the events pass by, and his hands run over the wood, and his eyes trail over the half-finished models and the lifeless figurines, and he wishes he could go back!...

And there's only so long he can go on like this, isolated without being physically separated from them, and the Voice's return is frightening but welcome.

He can feel the spirit's wordless disapproval when he provides the palace with a wonderful interior garden, but he doesn't care: he wants the model to be perfect, beautiful, to be able to contain a story that is pleasant to play out.

Every spot of the map has meaning for him, through previous games; in the end, the spirit lets him be.

He's right handed, so his fingers run over the keyboard a bit too slowly, the hand that hold the mouse is a little unsteady, but he decidedly continues to let his right arm hang to his side, unused: he feels in control.

When, in the museum, he is judged unfit to enter his own game, he stays stunned, unable to think, and he is relieved, this time, to be banned from consciousness: so he's not close enough to Yuugi, not a friend to him like they are!...

The doors to his soulroom are locked; his friends are gone; the game is somewhere, outside, and the spirit far out of reach: and so he waits.

He dutifully watches Yuugi and the other's last duel, happy for them since they seem to be, and utterly confused.

Yuugi assures him once more that it's all over, and that they have won, but it doesn't help: he feels horrible for the jealousy and the disappointment he still can't get ride of.

They come back outside again, to warmth, light and life, and Ryou feels light and free, and hopefully looks up, straight at the sun.

Yuugi has become strong and wise through his losses and his victories; he is left with smoke in his hands, years of his life erased or stolen, sudden freedom, and an oddly blank slot for a new start.

Honda and Yuugi are patient, but he still doesn't know if he'll ever quite find himself again: despite of all the details they manage to recall of their interaction, neither of them can figure out which parts have been erased from his memory, and which ones he never did or said himself...

He stares into the mirror, and stares and stares and stares until his eyes hurt, but there's nothing but a reflection, no magical duplication, no answer to his thoughts, no movement until he makes one.


End file.
